


See You On The Other Side

by GigiKat5671



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 05:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19739047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GigiKat5671/pseuds/GigiKat5671
Summary: Tony snaps and meets some familiar faces on the other side.  Now he has to decide if he wants to stay there or go home."The first thing Tony notices when he opens his eyes is that he isn’t in any pain.  Taking a breath no longer hurts, the damage from the arc reactor no longer compressing his lungs.  His joints don’t ache, not even in a normal, “I’m on the wrong side of forty and suddenly it hurts to get out of bed way”.  His muscles feel well rested and strong. He feels….good. The revelation is jarring--Tony’s body hasn’t felt good in a long time, since before Afghanistan.  His mind feels light as well, free from the visions that torment him when he lays in bed at night, desperate for sleep, knowing he’ll see his worst nightmares come alive the second he closes his eyes.  The constant thrum of anxiety is gone. The blinding fear is gone. The visions of the endless vastness of space, of dirty, ice-cold water, of Steve Roger’s shield slamming into his chest, of Bucky Barnes murdering his mother in cold blood, of Peter disintegrating before his eyes nothing but a memory now.  Nothing but peace."Or,An Endgame fix-it with more IronDad and Stony.





	See You On The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> Well...this was probably a long time coming. Here is my Endgame Fix-it featuring more IronDad and more Stony. I've had this idea rattling around in my head pretty much since seeing Endgame and I've finally gotten around to writing it. Enjoy!

The first thing Tony notices when he opens his eyes is that he isn’t in any pain. Taking a breath no longer hurts, the damage from the arc reactor no longer compressing his lungs. His joints don’t ache, not even in a normal, “I’m on the wrong side of forty and suddenly it hurts to get out of bed way”. His muscles feel well rested and strong. He feels….good. The revelation is jarring--Tony’s body hasn’t felt good in a long time, since before Afghanistan. His mind feels light as well, free from the visions that torment him when he lays in bed at night, desperate for sleep, knowing he’ll see his worst nightmares come alive the second he closes his eyes. The constant thrum of anxiety is gone. The blinding fear is gone. The visions of the endless vastness of space, of dirty, ice-cold water, of Steve Roger’s shield slamming into his chest, of Bucky Barnes murdering his mother in cold blood, of Peter disintegrating before his eyes--nothing but a distant memory now. Nothing but peace.

  


And Tony knows he must be dead, the power of the infinity gauntlet must have been too powerful for his body, and he must have died when he snapped. It’s not grief or sorrow that washes over him with the revelation--it’s relief. It’s relief so strong that he realizes he’s crying. Relief for Peter, the kid who had  _ begged _ Tony to save him, the kid that Tony had thought about every day for five years. Relief for Clint, who Tony thought might be just as broken as he was, having lost his family as well. Relief for Natasha, who hadn’t died in vain, who they’d avenged and would make sure she wasn’t forgotten. Relief for Shuri, T’challa, and the Queen, a family that had suffered so much, reunited once again. Relief for  _ Steve _ , who Tony wished they’d had more  _ time _ , to reconcile, to fix their relationship because Tony  _ knew  _ that they’d both made mistakes, but  _ knew _ he’d never love anyone as much as he loved Steve. 

  


The second thing Tony realizes is that he’s in his workshop, the one in Malibu before it had gotten blown up. The shop is recognizable, the cars in the exact same place he’d always remembered them being, his bots--U, DUM-E, and Butterfingers in their charging stations. Interestingly, Tony can’t find any sign of his Iron Man suits anywhere. The workshop also seems lighter, in the way Tony had always wanted it to be. It still looks like him, well-loved and obviously lived in, but more welcoming, more...like home. Tony’s not sure if this is heaven, hell, or someplace in between, but Tony thinks he might be ok here. 

  


The third thing Tony notices is that he’s not alone. There’s a man, tall and thin, staring up at that Jackson Pollock painting he’d told Pepper to buy him all those years ago, that had never made it out of storage. He looks well rested, as well, despite the threads of silver in his hair. He tentatively walks across his workshop, letting out a startled gasp as familiar warm eyes meet his. “Yinsen?” He whispers quietly, and he can hear the emotion in his voice. He swallows thickly, before asking tentatively, his voice barely audible, “Is...I-Is that y-you?” 

  


Yinsen looks the same as Tony remembers, but more rested. The stress lines are gone, his face looking younger, the weight of the world not so heavy on his shoulders anymore, his grief not his main feature anymore. Yinsen smiles sadly, before nodding. “You didn’t waste it. You didn’t waste your life.” 

  


And Tony breaks, crying earnestly, sobbing out, “I-I’m s-so so s-sorry. I’m so s-sorry. I never...n-never m-meant for y-you to d-die.” 

  


Yinsen simply wraps his thin, wiry arms around Tony’s frame, holding Tony in his arms, letting Tony sob, quietly speaking words of comfort to him, “Shhh. Shhh. You’re alright. You’re ok. You did good, Stark. You did, good.” Tony lets the words wash over him, taking solace in Yinsen’s arms, in his praise. 

  


Yinsen continues to hold him until his sobs quiet and Tony pulls away, “Did...D-did you see them? Did you see them again? Your family?” And Yinsen smiles, a smile so true and so genuine that Tony already knows the answer. 

  


“Yes. Yes, I did. And it was beautiful.” Yinsen says softly, looking away for a minute, staring off at something Tony can’t see, before adding,“My only regret is that you are missing yours.” Yinsen’s smile turns sad. 

  


“What do you mean?” Tony questions, his brow furrowing. 

  


Yinsen looks at him like he’s being ridiculous, and Tony’s heart aches at the familiarity of it, the look reminiscent of his time spent in an Afghan cave, “Surely you must know what I’m talking about, Stark. Your family. They need you. You can choose not to return if you really want to, but I think you’ll find there’re quite a few people who’d miss you. Looks like you found a family, after all.” 

  


“So I’m not dead? I can go back? Where am I then? Where would I go if I choose not to go back?” Tony fired, another dozen questions whirling around in his brain. 

  


“You’re not dead,  _ yet _ . Whether you want to go back or not is up to you.” Yinsen repeated, rather unhelpfully. 

  


Tony sighed, “When do I have to decide? How do I know if I should go back? How will I know I’m making the right decision?” 

  


“Time works differently here. You’ll know when you’re supposed to know, I suppose. I can’t make this decision for you, Stark. All I can tell you is that I’m proud of you. I knew your legacy could be so much bigger than making weapons.” Yinsen cupped his cheek, “You didn’t waste your life.” Yinsen repeated, before saying softly, “You can rest now.” And Tony closed his eyes, resting his head against Yinsen’s heart, feeling at peace.

* * *

  


When Tony opened his eyes again, he found himself looking up at the exasperated face of Edwin Jarvis. He notices that his surroundings have shifted, as well. He’s now in Anna and Edwin Jarvis’s guest house, where Tony had spent most of his early childhood years. “Sir. How good to see you again.” Jarvis’s voice rang out, the crisp British accent Tony had desperately tried to imitate in his A.I. 

  


“Jarvis” Tony breathed. Tony had spent a lot of time thinking about what he would say to Jarvis if he could talk to him again. He’d spent a lot of time talking  _ to  _ Jarvis, in a way, he supposed, if talking to someone’s grave was the same thing, so he wasn’t sure why the first thing he blurted out was “I named my first A.I. after you.”

  


Jarvis smiled softly at Tony. “Did you? I thought it stood for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System?” Tony blushed. That  _ was _ the story he’d maintained, ever since he’d first created JARVIS, not even admitting to Rhodey or Pepper that he’d been desperate for some parental guidance after losing Jarvis so soon after his parents’ death and had created JARVIS in a coding binge driven by desperation and caffeine. 

  


Jarvis smiled again, “I’m flattered, sir. I’m sorry I had to leave you so soon.” 

  


And Tony rushed forward, desperate to get the words out, to say what he'd always wanted to tell the man, “You were the father I desperately needed. And you were so  _ good _ at it. Truthfully, I don’t know how you did it. God knows I didn’t appreciate it nearly as much as I should have until I met the kid.” Tony muttered, a pang going through him at the thought of Peter. 

  


Jarvis smiles at him, softly, kindly, “And you were the best son, Tony. The very best. I’m so proud of you, sir. I’ve watched you grow into the man I always knew you’d become.” Jarvis replies. 

  


Tony heart aches at that, he knows how many mistakes he's made. Knows he's a very flawed man, knows that nothing he does will ever make up for all of the mistakes he's made in his life. Maybe Jarvis doesn't know that. He'd always hoped that Jarvis had been looking out for him, watching over him in some way, but he supposed it was a long shot. He offers a watery smile, “I don’t know, Jarvis. I’ve made so many mistakes...I’ve done so many things the wrong way….I..I’m…I’m not sure that I’ll never make amends for all of my sins.” Tony admits, ducking his head down in shame, he feels wetness on cheeks and knows he’s started to cry again. 

  


Jarvis tilts his chin up, the way he used to do when Tony was a child and his biggest worries were a father who never seemed to have enough time for him and a skinned knee. “Tony, look at me.” Tony hesitantly meets his eyes as Jarvis gently wipes away his tears. He’s prepared to see a multitude of expressions in Jarvis’s eyes: hatred, resentment, judgment, contempt--but the only thing he sees is an overpowering amount of love, shining through brightly. “You’ve done more than enough.” Jarvis’s voice is firm, conveying the strength that Tony doesn’t feel. “You are a good man. But it’s hard for a good man to lead.” Jarvis continues to wipe away the stray tears falling down his face, “Yes, you’ve made mistakes. A lot of them. In fact, I wish I could burn part of the late 90’s out of my head.” The words are harsh but Jarvis’s tone is so gentle that Tony knows he doesn’t mean anything by it. Tony mutters a quiet  _ sorry _ before Jarvis continues, “But you’ve done so much good. You’ve learned from your mistakes. You’re determined to make sure that Peter doesn’t make the same mistakes. What did I use to tell you when you were younger?”    


  


“Past mistakes are meant to guide you not define you.” Tony whispers, “But Jarvis, that was about for when I was upset when I rewired my first attempt at creating a robotic dog. Not exactly the same thing we’re talking about.” 

  


Jarvis looks at him with fond exasperation, “Then let me give you a different bit of advice: Mistakes are always forgivable if you’re able to admit them and learn from them.” 

  


Tony pears up at Jarvis, “You really think so?” He asks hopefully. 

  


“I know so.” Tony looks at Jarvis for a minute, trying to memorize the laugh lines on his face, his narrow chin, those kind eyes that had loved Tony with all his heart. So many details and memories have faded with time and Tony doesn’t want to forget anymore.

  


“You know I talked to you every day before I created JARVIS?” Tony questions. “I was so lost back then, so angry--I felt like I was constantly on the edge of a precipice, like a gentle breeze would be enough to send me spiraling to a place I’d never be able to climb out from. Talking to you was the only thing that didn’t make me feel like I wasn’t going to lose myself.” 

  


Jarvis nods sadly, “I know, Tony. When you felt most alone, when you were struggling the most, I was there, standing beside you. I tried so hard to help you, tried so hard to carry you through the hardest moments. I wish I could’ve done more.” 

  


And Tony  _ knows _ , he _knows_ that Jarvis had never really left him. Knows that he'll _always_ be with him. “I know” Tony chokes out, closing his eyes, “Thank you, Jarvis. Thank you.” And Tony finally gets out the words he’s been trying to.

  


* * *

  


When Tony’s opens his eyes again, his parents are standing in front of him. They’re in the mansion they’d lived in, a house that Tony had started to see as a prison as he'd gotten older. They look softer than Tony had ever seen them look. His mother’s pale blonde hair is undone, hanging loosely at her shoulders, her face free from makeup. She’s got on a soft, cream-colored sweater and worn jeans. He can’t ever remember her looking this casual, this  _ normal. _ She doesn’t look like the wife of a millionaire right now, she looks like a mother, like the woman Tony wished he'd gotten to see more of. 

  


His father looks different, as well. His hair doesn’t have the product in it and he’s not wearing a suit. Tony could count on one hand the number of time Tony had seen his father in anything other than a three-piece suit that screamed wealth. His father is wearing an expression that Tony can’t quite place. His mother looks nervous, hesitant like she’s unsure of her place in the situation. It takes him a minute to realize that the look his father is wearing is just that: uncertainty. He’s never seen his father look uncertain, never seen him questions his decisions, question himself the way Tony does. Tony can’t decide if it unnerves him or if it makes his father seem more human, more approachable. 

  


His mother speaks first, “Tony... _ bambino _ ... _ tesoro _ ….” She murmurs in Italian, extending her palms slightly like she wants to wave him over and Tony realizes it’s a peace offering--his mother had always known his relationship with his father was strained.

  


Tony takes a hesitant step forward, “Mamma…?” His mother nods encouragingly. Howard is standing next to her, a half-step behind her, letting his mother dictate the situation, Tony turns to address the man, “Howard…?” Tony sees something in his father’s face crumple but he nods and Tony is once again struck by how unsure Howard seems. 

  


He pulls his mother into his arms, the hug feeling familiar but different somehow and Tony realizes it’s the size. His frame is now larger than his mother’s and it hits him, not for the first time, just how young he was when she died. His mother’s arms wrap around his waist and he thinks she must be crying because he feels wetness on his shoulder. “Mamma...shhh...I’m ok...shh I promise I’m ok.” He assures her. 

  


His mom pulls back, gently dabbing at her eyes, “Bambino….” Her hands frame either side of his face, “You’re so big. You’re so grown up. So handsome.” She coos at him.

  


And Tony laughs weakly, “Mamma I’m 5’8 and three quarters. I work with a literal God and two super soldiers. I am not, nor have I ever been big in my life.” 

  


“Oh, hush. Let me look at my baby.” And Tony lets her because as much as he wishes that he’s dealt with his parents’ death, that their death doesn't hurt anymore, the wound is still tender, and seeing his mother  _ hurts _ in a way he wasn’t expecting. He mourns for a life that could have been, a life where his parents aren’t brutally murdered, where he doesn’t have to assume the role as ‘The Next Howard Stark’, a life where he doesn’t have to take over as CEO at 21, where Obadiah Stane doesn’t try and kill him, a life where he’s never kidnapped, a life with no Avengers, a life with no Iron Man. “I’ve missed you so much.” He whispers, “I’ve tried...I’ve tried, Mamma….to...honor you….Stark Relief Foundation, the September Foundation, The Maria Stark Foundation...they’ve all been for you.” 

  


His mother takes his hand, “You have,  _ bambino _ , you have, I’m so proud,  _ bambino _ , so proud.” Tony nods, wiping at a couple of tears that have escaped. “Are you...Are you somewhere nice?” Tony hesitantly asks. 

  


His mother smiles softly, “Yes, baby.” She squeezes his hand, before turning behind her and taking Howard’s hand “We’re somewhere nice.” 

  
Tony nods to her, before turning to his father. He’s shocked to see tears in his father’s eyes. “Stark men are made of iron.” He accuses, regretting it the second he sees his father’s face twist in pain. 

  


“I deserved that,” Howard speaks quietly, wiping his eyes. “Tony….” And Tony’s thought a lot about what his father would say if he could see him as Iron Man, what he would say about Stark Industries, what he would say about him loving Captain America, what he would say about him loving  _ men _ , of what he would say about him loving  _ Steve _ but he’s still somewhat surprised to hear his father say, “I’m so sorry, Tony.” 

  


Tony blinks, “You’re sorry?” He repeats slowly.

  


Howard nods again, extending his hands like he wants to reach out to Tony before aborting the movement, instead, wringing his hands together nervously. “I know I made a lot of mistakes, Tony... I know I wasn’t a good father. I know I wasn’t what you needed.” Howard’s voice is thick with emotion, in a way Tony’s never heard before, “There are….so many things I would do differently if I could.” He pauses, “But the one thing I regret the most, is not making sure you knew that I loved you. That I  _ love _ you. God, Tony, I love you so much. I’m so _proud_ of you. And I should have told you that more, should have told you every day, should have told you until you were sick of hearing it. Because that, Tony, is my biggest regret. Not making sure that you knew I loved you, that you knew I was proud of you. That I knew you were so much smarter than I was, that I knew you were going to change the world.”

  


“ My father, your grandfather, coined that phrase,  _ ‘Stark men are made of iron’ _ . And I hated it, hated that I never learned the true meaning. My father thought it meant that you never cried, never showed emotion, were never weak. And like a fool, I believed him. I didn’t learn the true meaning until it was far too late. That it means being strong for your family, being resilient in the face of adversity, to be soft and malleable when needed. I’m so thankful you figured it out.” Howard finished. 

Tony pulls his father into a hug, “Dad…” Tony starts and Howard’s breath hitches, “I know you did the best you could. And I love you. I hope I’ve made you proud.”   


  


* * *

  


  


When Tony wakes up again, it takes him a minute to place where he is. The furniture is old and worn, a little too large for the small apartment, making it look cramped. But the place looks warm, inviting. There’s a chunky, hand-knit blanket draped over the side of the couch, a full bookshelf with dozens of pictures sitting on top of it and Tony realizes he’s in the Parker’s apartment. The set-up is slightly different, in a way where he only knows it’s not the same, but not _how_ it differs. It’s been a while since he’s been to the Parker’s residence. Five long years to be exact. After he’d returned to earth with Nebula, he found himself driving to try and find May Parker, not sure if he was praying for her to be alive or dead. In the end, it hadn’t mattered, because he’d found May Parker in a pile of dust, wedding ring resting on top of the ash. Tony hated that he was almost relieved. 

  


The man standing in front of him isn’t a man he’s ever met, but one that he recognizes immediately. This is Ben Parker, Peter’s uncle, the man that Peter rarely talked about but that Tony knew he thought about almost every day. He didn’t know the exact story of what had happened the night Ben Parker had died, but from the number of nightmares he’d woken Peter up from, he could piece it together fairly easily. 

  


“Mr. Stark” Ben spoke clearly, firmly, sounding as confident as Tony felt out of his depth.

  


“Ben..uh I mean Mr. Parker...uh call me Tony please.” Tony cringed and Ben remained stoic except for a slight crook of his lips in what may have possibly been a smile. 

  


“Just Ben is fine.” Tony nodded, waiting for Ben to speak first, unsure of what to say. When Ben remained silent, clearly waiting for Tony to speak first, he looked at his hands, nervously fidgeting, and continued to wait for Ben to speak until he couldn’t take the silence anymore before blurting, “I’m so sorry.” 

  


Ben just raised an eyebrow, like he didn’t know what Tony was talking about, “I’m so sorry.” He repeated, “God, Ben, I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to keep that kid safe. I invented time travel to get him back...and it’s still not enough. Every time I think I do something right, I seem to fuck up three more things. And I just….don't know how to do better. I’ve come up with so many fail-safes and they’re not enough. He still gets hurt. He still turned to dust, right in front of me. I have an army of Iron Man suits at my disposal and I can’t keep one teenager safe. And he’s such a good kid, Ben.” He says earnestly, looking over to Ben who’s face was still an unreadable mask, “I know you probably know that. But...he really is something else. I look at him and I see the future. I see...endless possibilities...unlimited scientific breakthroughs...more compassion than I’ve ever had...a sureness of himself that I’ve only felt a handful of times in my life. I see so much potential in him, he’s already so much better than the rest of us. And he doesn’t even know it. And I’m trying my best to help him, to harness that potential, hell to make sure he makes it to college  _ alive _ . But it’s not enough. Nothing I do is _enough_. He deserves more. He deserves so much more than a fucked up, ex-playboy, washed up superhero with PTSD.” Tony finishes with a heavy sigh.

  


Ben looks at him measuredly before sighing, “God if that’s how you talk about yourself on a regular basis, you need a hell of a lot of therapy.” And Tony’s so surprised that he lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

  
“You wouldn’t be the first person to say that,” Tony admits.

  


Ben smiles briefly before turning thoughtful, “Pete ever tell you about Skip?” 

  


Tony’s mood immediately darkens. He remembered that day in excruciating detail. He’d called Peter  _ Einstein _ in jest once and it had sent Peter spiraling so deep into a flashback it had taken a full hour to get him back and Tony had spent the rest of the night researching child psychologists after Peter had gone to bed. “Yeah. Complete and total bastard, he’s serving three life sentences.” 

  


Ben hummed, “May and I could barely afford an attorney. He was a good kid, but a green attorney. Could only get him registered as a sex offender and five years.” 

  


Tony stayed silent. “Pete ever told you how we found out?” Tony shook his head. It  _ had _ been something that Tony had wondered about, though. Skip was a  _ teacher _ , after all. Tony knew he would have been  _ terrified  _ to say anything had the same thing happened to him. 

  


“He saw a talk you gave at one of your fancy galas. He used to worship the ground you walked on.” Ben smiled fondly before continuing, “It was 2013, your house had just been blown up, and you came out and said you were dealing with PTSD and anxiety, said you’d been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and were taking medication, you talked about how it was one of the hardest things you had to do, but that ultimately, you knew it was braver to get help than to suffer in silence. Guess who took that little speech to heart? Pete, at twelve years old came home from school, said he wanted to be like Tony Stark, be brave like him, begged us not to be mad at him. Scared the shit outta May and I but we promised and he finally told us. We’d known something was going on for a while, he was skittish, jumpier than usual. We never imagined it’d be something so…” Ben paused, clearing his throat and swallowing thickly, “vile.” he finished. 

  


“That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I can only imagine how much harder it was for Pete.” Tony feels sick but his heart sores with pride for how brave his kid was. “Don’t you see, Stark? You’ve been protecting Peter without even trying and I’ll let you in on a secret. That feeling, you know the one where it feels like you’re flying blind? Like you have no idea what you’re doing? It never goes away. Comes with parenting. But let me tell you Stark, Peter loves you with all his heart and he knows that  _ you _ love him. I can see it. And he talks to me a lot, you know?” And no Tony didn’t know that but Ben continues, “He’s told me a lot about you. About what good care you take of him, how he never thought he’d have another father figure, about how scared he is to lose you, too.” Ben smiles sadly, “That kid has such a big heart, always has. Just let him love you, Stark. Because being in Peter’s heart? It’s the best place to be. It’s the biggest privilege to be loved by him, Stark. And you deserve it.” 

  


Tony must make a face because Ben laughs again, “Oh give yourself some credit, Stark. You’re doing fine. I know about the Baby Monitor Protocol, I know about the thousands of web shooter combinations you created for him, I know how many times you’ve bailed him out of trouble when he’s called, I know how many times you’ve bailed him out when he  _ hasn’t  _ called you. I know you’ve never missed an academic decathlon meet, know he spends weekends with you at the compound, that you send him with extra snacks to school because of his metabolism. I know you gave him The Talk for Christ’s sake, a lot better than I did, by the way so thanks for that. Point is, you’re doing well.” And Ben smiles at him earnestly, making Tony feel like maybe he isn’t actually doing too bad, “And Stark, I’m only gonna say this once, but  _ thank you _ . For being there for him when I can’t. For taking care of May, checking in on her. I appreciate it. More than you know.” Tony nods, swallowing thickly. “He needs you, Tony. They both do. Give them my love.” and Tony closes his eyes again. 

  


* * *

  


  
When Tony opens his eyes the time, he’s in the Compound’s kitchen and Natasha Romanov is making a sandwich. “Nat?” Natasha rushes him, and he’s barely able to catch her weight, stumbling as he holds her close, tears streaming down his face. “Are you ok? Why are you here? Did we win?” Natasha fires at him.

  


“Yeah, we won. Nat, we won.” Tony grasps her shoulders, breathing her in, memorizing her face, committing it to memory one last time, “Because of you. I’m so sorry, Tash. If I could have undone your death, believe me, I would have.”

  


“Tony, it’s ok.” Nat takes his hand, “I’m gonna be ok. I knew what I was doing and I made my choice.” Her voice is strong, powerful, and Tony knows she means it, knows there’s no resentment towards him for failing, for not being able to save her. “When I first got this job, I hoped it would end this way. I didn’t trust myself to make the right decisions….for so long, I dealt in lies and deceit, didn’t care who I used it for or against. When I joined SHIELD….it was my second chance. I became an Avenger, fought the good fight. My best case scenario was always going to be to die fighting before I could cause any more damage. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Stark, spilled a lot of innocent blood. The only way I was going to clear all the red in my ledger was to spill some of my own blood, to even out the scales.” She smiled sadly.

  
“No. No. No. NO. You saved the UNIVERSE. You sacrificed yourself so that we would have a CHANCE of bringing everybody back. Not a sure thing, a one in FOURTEEN MILLION chance that we won. You’re an AVENGER. Your ledger’s been clear for eons. You’re a damn hero, Nat. Don’t you DARE tell me, you deserved this. Don’t you fucking dare.” Tony seethes.

  


Nat smiles widely, like the cat that got the cream, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

  


Tony pauses, fury momentarily forgotten, “Wait...what?”

  


Natasha rolls her eyes, “For a genius, Stark, you’ve always been kind of dense.” Tony scoffs at that but she ignores him, continuing, “When are you going to see that you’ve paid for your mistakes, Tony? Why are you so convinced that your story has to end in tragedy? Is it not enough to have a long and happy life, surrounded by the people who love you? Because you’ve got those in spades, Tony.” 

  


Tony blinks slowly, head spinning in an attempt to keep up with Natasha's mind tricks. “You’re so convinced that you’ll never make amends, but Tony, you just saved the universe… the man I met in 2010 and the man you are now aren’t that different” And Tony cringes to hear that, because he hated the person he’d been when he was dying of Palladium poisoning. Natasha sees his reaction and continues quickly, “No. Listen to me. The man I met in 2010 still desperately was trying to do the right thing. He was trying to do right by Pepper, trying to turn his life around with Iron Man, ready to step up, to fight the good fight. That man was still a good man, still a hero. You just didn’t know how to ask for help yet. And that’s why the Avengers work, Tony. That’s why this family works--because we have each other’s backs. And I know we’ve had a lot of rough patches but you’re the heart of this team, Tony. They need you.  _ Steve  _ needs you. The world isn’t ready to lose Tony Stark.”

  


Tony’s silent for a long time, thinking about what Natasha said, and she lets him, doesn’t press him, doesn’t ask what he’s thinking, just lets him be. “It’s just…." Tony starts, trying to organize his thought, "It’s just that staying here would be so  _ easy _ . I could stay with you, and Jarvis and Anna, stay with my  _ parents _ . My body doesn’t hurt here, Tasha. My mind feels lighter than it ever has before. It would be so very easy to stay here and just... let the rest of them figure out where to go from here.” 

  


Natasha nods, “It’s ok to want that, Tony. It’s ok to stay here. It’s up to you. But you’ve got so many people waiting for you back home. Could you rest, knowing that? Really rest? Your parents, Anna and Jarvis, they’ve watched you from the other side for a long time. I don’t think they’d mind waiting a little longer.” And Tony thinks about that. He thinks of Peter, the kid who’d lost so much already, who shouldn’t have to lose another father, who he wanted to see graduate, see him take over Stark Industries or start his own company, see him get married, see him have kids of his own, see him grow up and blow all of them away. 

  


He thinks of Pepper, who’d helped glue him back together after things with Steve went to shit, who’d helped him get sober, who made sure he didn’t lose his sobriety after the snap. He thinks of Rhodey, who’d taken one look at a fourteen-year-old Tony and decided he needed a friend, who’d never left his side, no matter how much of an idiot Tony could be. He thinks of Happy, who was the best husband to Pepper, one of the only men in the universe that would have been good enough for Pepper. He thinks of Morgan, their daughter who he loved as his own, who’s wide-eyed innocence and compassion reminded him so much of Peter that he found himself telling her stories about him, desperately wishing they could have met. 

  


He thinks of  _ Steve. _ He thinks of the love of his life, how it’d felt like he’d cut his own arm off when he’d cut Steve out of his life. How they had been  _ so _ close to fixing things between them. The resentment and feelings of hurt and betrayal had long faded and had just left a gaping hole in his chest and a yearning to reconcile. 

  


And he knows what he has to do, and it seems Nat does too. She’s got tears in her eyes and she holds out her arms for a hug. Tony takes the offer, embracing the comfort she offers, murmuring to her, “Thank you, Nat. We’ll never forget you. Not ever. Love you 3000.”

  


* * *

  


When Tony opens his eyes this time, it’s to the sound of a hospital monitor, Steve’s blue eyes staring down at him with love, and a room full of people he loves.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
